Strange Memories
by TheCosmicBanana
Summary: Odin has been stripped of his memories, abandoned by Loki, and left behind on Earth. But the Allfather's presence on Earth has not gone unnoticed. A certain sorcerer in his sanctum in New York knows where Odin is, and he also knows he has to help. What could have happened between Odin's time at Shady Acres and Norway. (Largely centers around Doctor Strange as well as Odin)
1. Chapter 1

**1**

It had been three days, and Strange had decided to take matters into his own hands.

Odin had been in the "care" of the Shady Acres Care Home ever since Loki dropped him off on Monday. Through one of the Sanctum Sanctorum's many surveillance systems, Strange had watched the exchange go down.

The drop-off had been brief, but he had been able to glean the basics: Odin's memories had been erased or compromised. Thor had been off-world – off _both_ worlds, apparently, given that he was neither on Earth nor Asgard – for some time, leaving the throne of Asgard empty. Loki had taken full advantage of this, of course, disguising himself as Odin just so he could play king. Thor had evidently been tricked into believing Loki was dead, leaving the Jotun free to rule as he wished.

Just the usual Asgardian-family drama.

Ordinarily, Strange wouldn't have felt the need to intervene – after all, all of Asgard's conflicts on Earth had resolved themselves in the past – but this was different.

Something bigger was coming. Something much bigger, and far more threatening, was looming on the horizon, and Strange was taking every precaution he could to ensure Earth's safety. He was Sorcerer Supreme now – it was more or less in the job description. And he would feel much more comfortable about the safety of Earth if the Allfather, guardian and protector of the Nine Realms, was back on Asgard's throne.

Past all the good-and-noble phrasing, though, this was still the _last_ place Stephen wanted to be right now.

He now waited in the "apartment" that Odin had been given. The square room was just large enough to fit a geriatric-grade hospital bed, a nightstand, and a three-drawer dresser. Everything either smelled like disinfectant or urine; there was no comfortable in-between. One chair, which might have been upholstered once, had been awkwardly angled into a corner, most likely just to hide the weird stain on the wall behind it.

Strange sat on the chair, arms folded in front of him. He had entered the room a little over a minute ago via a sling-ring portal – an easy doorway straight from the Sanctum to here.

Lifting his arm, Strange swiveled the watch on his wrist and checked the time.

1:07. Lunchtime at Shady Acres started at 12:15. Based on the amount of time it had taken Odin to finish lunch the past two days, he should be coming back to his room right about. . .

The door unlocked and started to open.

. . . now. Strange tried not to feel smug. He liked being punctual, and with the help of the sling-ring portals, he was able to time his comings and goings with pinpoint accuracy.

His smile faded immediately, however, when he caught sight of Odin in the doorway.

The Allfather looked haggard.

He was hunched over on himself and moved slowly, like he might break at any moment. White hair hung in clumps around his face, casting a darker shadow over his sunken cheeks and pale skin. A stark-white medical eyepatch covered his missing eye.

Everything about his appearance seemed wrong – every ounce of kingly dignity had been stripped away, leaving behind nothing but an old, lost man.

Strange didn't like to see Odin like this. He shifted on the chair, making it squeak, and cleared his throat.

Odin started in surprise, his one good eye twitching upwards and looking confusedly around the room. When he caught sight of Strange, he gasped and took a step back. "Who –" he said.

"Don't worry," Strange said quickly, "I'm a friend."

There was a stretch of silence as Odin looked Strange over. "I don't. . . I can't remember," he said finally, sounding uneasy. Keeping his gaze fixed on Strange, he shook his head. "I don't know who you –"

"Thor," Strange said.

Odin was caught off-guard by the interruption. He furrowed his eyebrows, uncomprehending. "What –"

"Frigga, Loki, Heimdall, Fandral, Rainbow Bridge, Sif, Mjolnir," Strange continued, rattling off the names in quick succession. He narrowed his eyes, studying Odin's face. He would take anything – the slightest hesitation, the slightest double-take, the slightest flicker of recognition. "Any of those sound familiar? Any name, at all?"

Odin had taken another step back, his back pressed up against the door. "Who are you?" he asked again, his voice weaker. "What do you want?"

Strange breathed heavily through his nose. "It's okay," he said after a moment, his voice gentler. "Forget it." He had already learned what he needed to know. There hadn't been a single flicker of recognition in Odin's eyes, only wariness. Suspicion. Fear.

The sorcerer stood up sharply from the chair, and the Cloak of Levitation swung down around his feet. He tipped his chin up, indicating the Allfather. "I need you to hold still."

Odin froze.

Mouth partway open, it seemed like he was about to speak, but he remained absolutely still. Frozen in time.

A gentle green glow encapsulated the Asgardian.

"Thank you," Strange muttered. Both hands hovered inches above the Eye of Agamotto around his neck, poised in such a way that his ring fingers and thumbs touched. The Eye had been opened, showing off the glowing green gem inside.

Surely he couldn't get in trouble from Wong for this. He wasn't _manipulating_ the time stream, per se, he was just. . . pausing it. Just for a little while.

He walked around Odin until he was standing directly behind him. Slowly, Strange lifted his hands away from the Eye. The Infinity Stone held the spell by itself, and Odin remained still.

Doctor Strange lightly pressed two fingers to the nape of Odin's neck, the soft spot just below the skull. Frowning deeply in concentration, he held up his other hand and made a rotating motion with his fingers.

A soft red glow came from beneath Odin's skin, almost as if someone was shining a light from the inside out. The brain glowed visibly from beneath the skull.

It was time to see what had really happened to the Allfather's memories.

Keeping his left hand on Odin's neck, Strange flicked his right wrist back and forth. Different portions of the brain lit up, and he quickly sorted through them.

Memory was a complicated thing. There wasn't one single localized area where all memories were stored (which would have made this much easier) – instead, different types of memories were embedded in all different parts of the brain.

 _Motor memory. Short-term memory. Spatial reasoning. Temporal context. No, no, no, and no. . . ._ Strange flipped quickly through each portion of the brain, searching for what he was really after. _Episodic memory. . . episodic memory! Bingo_.

Essentially, episodic memories were the ones that remembered who Odin _was_ – visual snapshots of past events, emotions attached to those events, patterns of everyday life – pretty much everything Loki would want Odin to forget.

Strange lifted his right hand, and a holographic-looking tangle of nerves lifted away from Odin's head. They spanned almost the entire surface area of the brain, forming a delicate network of memories.

Strange's eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell. . . ?" he muttered under his breath.

Smoky, black-green magic entangled every nerve, blocking impulses from the entire network.

This was undoubtedly Loki's doing, but Strange had to admit he was surprised. The spell itself was a fairly simple one – bordering on crude. It was a fix-it-quick sort of solution as far as memory-erasing went, and one of the most well-known tricksters in the galaxies had used it on his own father.

Strange felt a twinge of disgust. Not _because_ Loki had done this to Odin – it was more _how_ Loki had done it. He couldn't help it. Sloppiness irritated him.

It didn't matter now; the damage had already been done. This spell was like an oil spill in the brain; it was ugly, it was unnatural, and it was going to take a lot of time and effort to clean up.

The thing was, Strange's skill level far surpassed Loki's spell. He could break it easily – it would take little more than an 'Abracadabra' and a snap of his fingers, and the spell would shatter into pieces.

The problem was the brain. Memory was a delicate thing, meaning he wouldn't just break the spell – Odin's memories would also shatter like glass.

"Okay," Stephen muttered. With a few quick hand motions, all the holographic images snapped back into Odin's head, and the light faded. Letting out a long sigh, Strange rubbed his temples and walked back to the chair in the corner.

They were going to have to do this the long way round.

* * *

It happened so quickly, Odin just assumed he had blinked.

The stranger in his room was sitting on the chair. Then he stood up, quickly, and brought both hands to his chest, and suddenly – he was standing a foot to the left, without ever even moving.

Odin _must_ have blinked. Just another tiny lapse in memory. It was possible, even likely.

Just as quickly, the stranger lowered his hands. There was a little flare of green light on his chest, but even as Odin noticed it, the light seemed to vanish like a tiny star.

Without warning, pain pulsed through Odin's head. He let out a groan and pressed a palm to his forehead.

"Are you okay?" the stranger asked, and Odin was surprised by the genuine concern in his voice. "Headache?" He _tsked_ his tongue, as if disappointed with himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "My fault. You'll feel fine in twenty seconds, I promise."

Odin lifted his head, ignoring the pain, and studied the stranger, scrutinizing him carefully.

The man looked right back at him. His eyes were remarkable, such a bright blue they were almost white.

"What do you want?" Odin asked. "What do you want with me?"

"With you?" the man repeated. He shook his head to one side. "Nothing. I just want you right back where you were before this whole mess started. Where you should be.

"But there's a _slight_ problem," he continued, frowning at the floor. "You don't know who you are."

"And yet, it seems you do." Odin narrowed his eyes at this man, this stranger.

The man's eyes moved up to meet Odin's again. "I'm sorry, I haven't been completely honest with you," the man said after a minute, his voice gravelly. "You _don't_ know me. We've never met – well, at least not until a minute ago – but _I_ know who _you_ are, and at the moment you don't even remember that much. So I would take my offer. I can take you to a safe place until you remember everything you need to know."

Odin took a moment to reply, moving his lips soundlessly for a moment. "Who are you?" he said finally. "Who are you, _really_?"

"My name is Doctor Strange." The stranger offered his hand to shake and gave Odin a short, polite smile. "And I'm here to help you remember everything you've lost."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I apparently like filling in the tiny gaps the MCU leaves behind, and Odin's story between TDW and Ragnarok was one of them. I am affectionately calling this story a "three-shot", meaning there will be three chapters in total. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Cover image is from the Marvel Wikia, with my editing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"Welcome to the Sanctum," Strange said, grandly gesturing around at the wood-paneled walls around them. Odin, a few steps in front of him, looked around curiously.

By all accounts, the Sanctum was a better location for Odin. It was closer, cleaner, and far more practical. If Loki was actually planning on coming back to Earth anytime soon, it would be a good idea to have Odin somewhere Strange could actually protect him.

Turning around, Strange closed the portal behind them. The fizzling circle swiveled smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether.

When he turned back around, he found Odin watching him with what seemed like amusement.

"Can all Midgardians do that?" Odin asked.

"Aaah. . . not exactly," Strange said, slipping off the sling ring and hooking it on his sash. "Only the special ones." He did a double-take. "You said Midgardian."

"What?" Odin seemed startled. "I –"

Strange smiled. "It's good news," he said. "Your mind is already working differently."

That put to rest one of his theories that had already begun to circulate; Loki had placed an additional spell over the care home, like an extra safeguard to ensure Odin's memories didn't return for a long time.

"Come on," Strange said. "I'll show you to your room."

The portal had opened up into a wide hallway. Strange went over to one of the doors and opened it, gesturing for Odin to follow.

The room was simple and square, with enough room to comfortably fit a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a chair. One wall appeared to be made up entirely of built-in bookshelves, packed with neatly arranged, leather-bound volumes.

As Odin went inside, Strange took note of the Asgardian's appearance. Against the deep reds and carved wood tones of the Sanctum, the standard-issue sweat clothes from Shady Acres looked sharply out of place.

"All the clothes in the dresser should fit. Bathroom's the door to the right. Clean yourself up, settle in, relax." Strange nodded around, indicating the room. "You're welcome to stay until your memories return. The Sanctum exists to serve, so what's here is yours."

"Thank you," Odin murmured.

"Yep," Strange said, shortly and brightly. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "Dinner can be made whenever you're hungry. If you need anything else, just let me know."

Without another word, the sorcerer left the room, closing the door after him.

Left alone in silence, Odin found himself drawn to the bookshelf. He was going to change into different clothes, as Doctor Strange had suggested, but the books drew his attention like a moth to a flame. He looked over them, noticing that several words in the titles repeated themselves several times.

Gods. Planets. Norse. Mythology.

Odin took the first book off the shelf, and started reading.

* * *

Wong was waiting for him.

"Wong!" Strange said in surprise. He stopped at the doorway to his study, looking curiously at the bookkeeper inside. This was unusual; Wong almost never visited his study. "We're back."

Wong didn't move a muscle, both arms folded across his chest. "I know."

Strange eyed his bookkeeper as he strode into the room. "Odin's settled in the Eastern Wing. Room 16."

"I know." Wong's voice remained a monotone.

Without turning around, Strange shuffled some papers on the desk. "Mythology books were a good idea. They won't bring his memories back, but they'll at least start him thinking."

Wong didn't even blink. "I _know_."

Strange rolled his eyes, his shoulders sagging, and finally turned around. "Okay, okay, you saw me use the Eye. I get it."

"You are the keeper of that Infinity Stone, Stephen," Wong said, his voice coming close to admonishing. "It is your duty to take care of it."

"What were your duties, again? You're supposed to help _me_ , right?"

"Stephen," Wong said, his voice lower. "I fear its power is. . . attractive. To many beings across the galaxies."

Strange sighed, finally resigning. "I know," he muttered quietly. He glanced away, at a circular window that allowed white light to pour into the room. "Believe me, I know."

Wong nodded once, as if that was all he came to hear. He went to leave the room, arms crossed behind his back, but he paused at the door.

"How is the Allfather?"

Absentmindedly, Strange traced the cracked face of his watch with one finger. "Lost," he said after a moment, his voice gravelly. "Loki did a hell of a job."

"And your prognosis?"

A hint of a cocky smile edged at Strange's lips. "I give it one month." One month for the memories to come back in full.

"Hm," Wong said. He didn't sound doubtful, but he didn't sound entirely convinced, either. "We will see."

Without another word, the bookkeeper left the room.

Stephen rubbed a finger over his lip, deep in thought. "Yes, we will," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Steam curled up from the clay teapot's nozzle. The little teacups and saucers rattled dully against each other as the tray quivered midair, suspended at Doctor Strange's side by magic.

Stephen knocked twice on the door. "Odin?"

Odin's voice came muffled through the door. "Yes, come in."

The Allfather was standing by the bookshelves when Strange entered. Since yesterday, he had changed into a dark golden tunic and swapped the medical eyepatch for a simple black one. Already, he looked much better than he had yesterday.

He closed the book he had open in his hands and gave a quizzical look to Strange's side.

Strange followed his gaze. The tray had followed him through the doorway, and he gestured to the tray's contents with a tilt of his head.

"Tea we grow in Kamar-Taj and a royal jelly honey." With a wave of his fingers, Strange sent the tray gliding gently to the floor before kneeling down himself. "Practically a brain booster. Nothing could help your memories more."

"Very thoughtful." Odin didn't move his eyes from the sorcerer. Strange could feel a question in his gaze.

"Every morning, eight o'clock, I'll be here." Strange began pouring tea into both cups, steam rising off the surface of both. "Just for an hour, just to talk. Possibly go over some memory techniques – anything that might jog your memory." He gestured for Odin to sit down as well. "Please, sit."

Odin didn't move. "Why not just _tell_ me who I am?" He tilted his chin up. "It seems you know."

Without looking up, Strange shook his head patiently. "Can't tell you everything at once. Not only would it not work, if you remembered all at once, your brain would fry." He finished pouring the tea and set the teapot back down. "The mind is one muscle you can't strain. Push it and it will break."

After a moment, Odin relented. "Very well." He knelt to the floor and took one of the cups from the tray.

Picking up his own cup, Strange leaned back, as casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Let's start with the basics. Do you remember your full name?"

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Strange's mornings fell into a rhythm. The days varied, of course, but the mornings remained the same.

Always at eight o'clock, he stood at Odin's door, a tray of tea hovering beside him. For one hour, he and Odin would talk, slowly edging around a whole range of different subjects.

Today, Stephen had something a little different planned.

"Odin?" As usual, he knocked twice on the door before opening it.

"Doctor," Odin greeted him.

"Allfather," Strange said back. He stayed at the doorway, and gestured for Odin to follow him. "No tea today. I want to show you something."

It was a short walk from Odin's room to the artifacts – really, there were artifact-filled shelves everywhere in the Sanctum. Anywhere the glass shelves had fit, they had been placed. But there was one particular area Strange wanted to take his guest.

The relics were loosely grouped throughout the Sanctum according to several different factors. Some artifacts were displayed alongside others from the same time period, while others were grouped with others that had been created in the same geographical location.

Each master who had been in charge of the New York Sanctum had had a different preference, which resulted in a very scattered organization system.

Fortunately, Strange had memorized the placement very quickly, and he knew that the gathering of artifacts they walked up to now contained more Asgardian artifacts than most.

"We're just going to take a look around. Anything stirs your interest, let me know."

At a nod from Odin, they started their slow trek through the tall, gold-framed shelves.

After a minute or so, Strange realized he wasn't paying as much attention to Odin as he was the artifacts. He was frowning at a layer of dust that had settled over a golden flute when Odin's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What is that?" Odin was pointing to a white mask behind the glass.

"Battle armor," Strange replied, folding his hands behind his back. "From a species called the Dark Elves. They were here on Earth for about" – he paused to consider – "oh, half an hour. Let's say were very quickly escorted off-world."

Odin said nothing, but when Strange glanced over at him, his lips were moving, silently repeating the words. _Dark Elves_.

Pretending not to have seen, Strange moved on.

"Born of eternal night. . . ," Odin was murmuring to himself, so softly that Strange could only just hear him. ". . . Dark Elves come. . . steal away your light."

"What's that?" Strange asked.

Odin pulled his hand sharply away from the glass as if it had burned him. "Nothing," he said, sharper than usual.

For a moment, Strange could glimpse a light at the end of the tunnel. In Odin's eyes, he had seen it. The Allfather might not be willing to admit it yet, but something was stirring in his mind.

Strange gave a smile. The memories were coming back, slowly.

Piece by piece by piece.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

When the memories came, it was like a thunderstorm in reverse.

The trickle of familiarity in Odin's mind had started with the white mask in Doctor Strange's artifact case. There was something about that mask – the rounded black eyes, the long slender ears, the silently pursed white lips – that he couldn't place exactly. The only thing he could attach to that face was the vaguest feeling of a book in his hands.

The memory was so intangible, so alien, that it felt impossible that he could even grasp it. The more he thought about it, however, he could almost remember the feeling of a book in his hands, and the swirls of a rippling illustration, and wriggling children at his sides. . . .

Suddenly, unexpectedly, everything exploded into his mind like thunderclaps.

King of Asgard.

Son of Bor.

Father of. . . Thor. Father of Loki.

Of course. The stories of the Dark Elves. Loki and Thor were fascinated with the creatures; they were mesmerized by the rhymes their mother taught them.

Their mother.

Frigga.

With the beautiful memory came a sudden, crashing wave of grief, and Odin's breath caught in his throat. Panting slightly, he allowed himself to lean against the windowsill, pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the window.

Yes. Frigga was dead. But that had happened some time ago, much farther back. . . .

A steady stream of finer details began flooding through his mind. Recent events flashed before his eyes – the guard, back on Asgard, telling him that Thor was missing and Loki was dead. After that, it was darkness – all the memories obscured by the worst of the fog. But he could remember where he was, and he could remember the kindness of his host.

Odin's eyes opened.

It had taken a month, but Odin was back.

* * *

"Odin?" As usual, Strange knocked twice on the door and listened for the reply. There was no reply this time; unusual. Strange frowned. "Odin?" He opened the door.

The Allfather stood by the window, one hand braced against the sill as if steadying himself. He turned around, and Strange could tell immediately that something had changed. There was a different light to Odin's eyes now, and he even held himself differently; straighter, taller, more kingly. After three weeks of seeing Odin every day, the change was apparent.

"Doctor Strange," the old Asgardian said with a nod. "Guardian of Midgard, if I'm not mistaken."

Strange relaxed, a smile coming over his face. "Welcome back, Allfather."

Odin was looking around. "We are on Earth, yes?"

"The one and only. Welcome to the third rock from the sun." Strange frowned in thought. "At least – _our_ sun. Different solar system."

"I am not a stranger to your planet." Odin nodded to himself. "I was here once, many years ago." He glanced outside at New York City, and the silver high-rises and bright yellow taxicabs below. "I must say it's changed quite a bit."

"We had an industrial revolution a short while back. Helped a lot." Strange nodded and took in a sharp breath. "So, I can take you back to Asgard – I might need to pull a few strings, but it should –"

"No!" Odin barked.

Strange cut himself off and looked at the Allfather in surprise.

Odin rubbed a hand over his head. "I will not be returning to Asgard."

Strange frowned and took a step forward. "Odin. . . you're the king."

"No," Odin said, softer. "No, not anymore. I choose exile."

 _Well, great_. Strange was going to have to try to talk him out of this. "Odin, back on Asgard –"

" _Asgard_ ," Odin said firmly, cutting him off, "is no longer my concern." He turned away, shaking his head. "All my years, it seems, have been spent ruling the Nine Realms. It's time now for a new king. I would like to rest now."

Strange finally relented with a long sigh. "You're sure about this?" he asked the Asgardian.

"I have never been surer."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that," Strange muttered. He raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're welcome to stay at the Sanctum, but I can take you anywhere on Earth, if you want. New York's a little. . . . It's not for everybody."

Odin looked out the window again. "Earth has its beautiful places," he said after a moment of thought. "As does Asgard. Its blights, as well, but if I am to remain in exile. . ." He trailed off. "I would like to see one of Earth's beautiful places."

"Hmm," Strange hummed, frowning in thought. He narrowed his eyes before looking back at Odin. "I think I have an idea," he said. He slipped the sling ring onto his fingers, rotating one arm in the air until a fizzling orange portal appeared midair. He turned to Odin. "Ever been to Norway?"

* * *

Cold ocean air whipped against Strange's face as he stepped through the portal, and his feet sank into a few inches of thick green grass.

Almost immediately, he could feel the Cloak of Levitation shiver slightly and cling closer to his legs. While the Cloak loved a dramatic wind, it much preferred a _warm_ wind.

Stephen heard Odin take in a deep breath and let it out as a hushed sigh of bliss. Glancing over, he realized Odin's eyes were closed.

Strange squinted into the bright blue horizon. "Not too bad, right?"

"It's beautiful," Odin said.

Strange tilted his head to one side in consideration. "It's. . . secluded. Thought it would be what you're looking for."

Odin nodded once. "It will do perfectly."

The wind filled in the silence for a moment, whistling in their ears and sending shivers through the grass. Hundreds of feet below them, dark grey waves crashed against land, looking small from far away.

When Strange looked back at Odin, the Asgardian's head was hanging low.

Stephen frowned. "Allfather?"

"I must ask a favor of you," Odin said. He finally looked up, squinting against the wind. "Provided I am no longer king, I know I can hardly order anything of you. So instead I shall simply insist."

Strange watched the old Asgardian, waiting.

"I have chosen to live in exile," Odin said, "and in exile I will remain. I wish to be left here, in this beautiful place, alone." He took a deep breath. "For the rest of my days."

Strange's eyebrows furrowed. "Thor will come for you," he said. "Eventually, when he goes back to Asgard, he'll see you absent from the throne. He'll come looking for you."

Odin didn't look at him directly. "And should I expect you to lie to my son?"

"Mmm." Strange shook his head to one side. "I've found that when dealing with demigods, honesty really is the best policy."

Odin smiled. "You are a smart man." He took a deep breath. "No, I wouldn't expect you to lie to my son." The Asgardian gave a short, humorless chuckle. "I have done enough of that myself, throughout my time with him. Very well, if he asks, you needn't lie. Tell him the truth, tell him I wish to be alone. It will be up to him whether he obeys the final wish of his father."

Strange nodded his head to one side. "That I can do."

"Your kindness will not be forgotten. And you have my gratitude." Odin pressed his right arm to his chest and nodded his head – an Asgardian salute.

"It was my pleasure." Strange mimicked the gesture, pressing one arm to his chest and bowing lower in respect. He straightened up and gave a short smile. "You know how to contact me if you need anything else."

He started walking back to the portal, which remained open.

"What about any unusual circumstances?" Strange asked over his shoulder. "Possible exceptions, special cases, isolated incidents I should know about? Then can I send Thor here to bother you?"

He could hear Odin chuckle. "Farewell, sorcerer."

Strange smiled and stepped inside the ring of the portal. With both feet on the wooden floor of his New York Sanctum, he turned and nodded at Odin from halfway across the world. "Goodbye, Allfather."

With a flick his wrist, the portal swiveled into itself, leaving only a handful of sparks behind.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! I hope you all enjoyed this three-shot. :D**


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